


Weird Sweater

by Kiichixo



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, and this happened, crack fic wops, quickly thrown together fic as an apology to not posting anything, so I looked up what a virgin killing sweater was, why is this sweater popular???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiichixo/pseuds/Kiichixo
Summary: Izaya plays a prank on Namie and now she's temporarily stuck in this weird sweater.





	Weird Sweater

Today was an okay day.

Not fantastic. Not amazing. She didn't win the lottery.

Simply, okay.

The sound of her clicking heels echoed off the apartment walls as she walked down the hallway. Reaching for her keys, she paused a moment to observe the cracked open door. Her suspicion showed in her dark eyes.

A break in?

She put her hand in her purse, fingers wrapping around the familiar boxy shape of a tazer. If it was a break in, Izaya would have taken care of it. However she couldn't exclude the possibility that Izaya had gotten his ass handed to him, so it was best to be prepared. But, if there was a dead body, she decided she wouldn't be the one to clean it up. Taking a cautious step, she pushed open the door.

A shrill cry erupted from Namie as she was doused in cold liquid, mouth agape as dark droplets dripped from her eyelashes and onto her cheeks. The strong scent of coffee invaded her nose as she stood, closed eyed and stunned. She was _soaked_. Her brown eyes blinked open, her gaze swarming with surprise and rage.

"IZAYAAA!"

She didn't need to yell for him to hear her. He had already rushed down the stairs when she screamed, ditching the files he was collecting from the bookshelves upstairs. Now, he was standing there with crossed arms, looking at her as she dripped with cold cofee. His arms dropped to his side, and his head tilted to the side with a whine.

"Agh... I didn't think you would come this early. I didn't get to see your full reaction."

"You little-" she growled, taking dangerous steps towards him, fingers curled as if ready to strangle him. He put up his hands and backed off, as if saying he had nothing to do with it, which would be a complete lie because he had everything to do with it. An amused smirk reached his lips.

"Now, Namie, attacking your boss wouldn't be very civilised, would it?"

"Unless your boss attacked you first," she growled, her approach slow and shaky because the coffee really was super cold. He took a few steps back.

"Alright, it was a prank. Calm down," he chuckled. "I'll let you wash up, and then I'll get you some clean clothes. Careful now, don't track it onto the carpet."

* * *

Namie observed the article Izaya had given her. Turning it, opening it, and being confused by it, she wondered why this "sweater"—if you could even call it that—had such a deathly short bottom and hardly any covering on the back. The whole design itself was suggestive. It was a fashion disaster. She poked her head out of the door.

"Izaya! What is this?" she called, hoping he just grabbed the wrong thing. If she wore this, all her dignity and pride would be sucked down the drain.

"Just wear it! Trust me~ you'll look good," his voice echoed through the house. Namie sighed and withdrew back into the bathroom, shutting the door.

* * *

 Oh my god.

Namie stared at her reflection. She was... was... this is unacceptable! She quickly reached for the door handle and yanked it open to look down the hall.

"Izaya!" she yelled, "I'm not wearing this!" She heard a snicker from the living room.

"Aww, Namie~," he cooed, "I want to see what you look like! Come out, come out! Don't be shy~." She heard the soft creak of a chair, and ducked back into the bathroom.

"No! It's atrocious!"

"Oh? I thought it would compliment your figure." There were footsteps now, closer judging the sound on the floorboards. She locked the door.

"Compliment, my ass. I'm practically naked!"

"Ah, but it does compliment your butt too I would imagine."

"Shut up! I can't wear this! And don't imagine anything you sick pervert!"

There was a sigh and retreating footsteps, disappearing somewhere she didn't know. Hopefully, to his room to get her some clothes that wouldn't be so revealing.

Five minutes passed,

then ten,

then twelve,

then she finally had enough waiting, because every minute felt like an hour.

"Hey, Izaya! What's taking so long? You're getting me clothes, right?" She waited for an answer.

Silence.

What the hell, she thought frustratedly. Opening the door, she checked down the hall for any sign of her annoying boss. Luckily, he wasn't ready to jump out and scare the daylights out of her, so she continued slowly down the hallway, gathering her peace of mind while it was still there and reachable.

"Izaya?" She stepped into the living space, looking towards his chair which sat empty before the office desk.

_Click!_

"Ohh~ Namie-chan really does look nice. This is much better than that boring green sweater." Turning, she witnessed a phone held up, with another soft click a second later. Izaya stood behind the coffee table, lips cracked into a smirk and chuckles flowing from his throat. Namie panicked and ran to him.

"Delete those!" She made a grab for Izaya's phone, but he held it high above their heads. "You son of a-" He cut her off.

"Now, now, Namie, what did I say about vulgar language? No man wants a lady with a mouth like that."

"Like I care!" She made a jump for the phone, but he wrapped an arm around her half-bare waist before her feet could leave the floor.

"As amusing as it would be, I don't think you'd want to be doing any motion of bouncing dressed like that." The raven stated, that crooked smile still plastered on his pale features. She made no attempt, since that _would_ be embarrassing. She slapped his arm.

"Get your dirty hands off me," she snapped. Instead of getting her wish, he pulled her closer so that they were chest to chest.

"Well, there are no 'hands' since I have only one hand on you, and, I'll make a deal with you." The secretary narrowed her almond eyes.

"What is it?" Izaya smiled cheekily, annoying Namie even further.

"I get one more picture, and I'll get you some proper clothes, though you do look _very_ nice in this."

"I'm not here to fulfill your weird fantasies. You won't share the pictures?"

"Nope. I won't share the pictures."

"..."

Namie thought about it. One more picture? That's not too serious. He already had two.

"Deal." Izaya lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Perfect! Now, please stand still and look cute just like that~," he snickered, sliding his arm away from her waist and stepping back, giving Namie a chill down her spine. She stood as he made her the center of his screen, the same soft click sounding from the phone like the last two times. Namie felt her cheeks heat up. How embarrassing.

"Done~," he chimed. He approached her again, taking some of her still coffee-scented hair in his hand as he walked past, the strands gliding through his fingers. "Thank you dear~."

"Shut up. I'm never doing this again."

"Oh, I know," Izaya said. He looked at his phone as he flicked the ringer off. I know~, he repeated in his mind, turning slightly and tapping the white button one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> dang sorry for never updating any stories. I have finals and AP exams to take the next few weeks so I might not post anything. anyone waiting for Murderous Beginnings to update— sorry but it might be a while despite me saying "soon" wops :")


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